


Regularity

by helloshepard



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Ensemble Cast, Fix-It, Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloshepard/pseuds/helloshepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Five years after Optimus Prime's death, Bumblebee arrives on Earth in search of the crashed starship Alchemor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alchemy

**Author's Note:**

> A comprehensive rewrite of the 2015 Robots in Disguise series. I promise promise promise it won't be just a novelization of the series; I am planning on changing most things.  
> Currently unbeta'd, but if you'd like to be a beta, please let me know! (Though I do need your email or tumblr username...) Feedback is so greatly appreciated.

_Starship_ Alchemor, _starboard viewport, Deck Two_

Drifting through space, armed with only minimal weaponry and basic shielding, _Alchemor_ seemed the prime target for any pirate brave enough to attack a Cybertronian vessel.

Fixit's calculations of _that_ happening were not particularly high, but he remained vigilant nonetheless, optics tracking the odd bit of space debris as it drifted past the viewport. Though they were useless against any foes who might attack from another ship, their hum offered some minimal comfort, letting him know that he was a (somewhat) formidable obstacle in the path of the engine deck.

Static crackled over the comlink. Patiently, Fixit tapped the side of his helm and the noise vanished, leaving only a clear voice making its report.

::Nearly done with our repairs. Glowstrike and Saberhorn estimate we should be en route to Cybertron within the hour.::

::Understood.:: Fixit said. ::I'll be here until we get out of fear... _deer_ —::

::Got it.:: Was the terse reply.

Internally, Fixit cringed, resisting the urge to bash his helm against the viewport. While unfamiliar to him, the medic who had accompanied _Alchemor's_ crew for the past year had strongly advised against using physical force to correct the minicon's speech impediments. Privately, Fixit wondered if the former Decepticon derived any humor from seeing the minicon bang his head against the wall: others seemed too, and few were sympathetic to his plight.

::Fixit ou—::

Fixit trailed off, realizing too late his fellow minicon had switched channels. The orange bot's shoulders drooped and he leaned against the viewport, optics once again fixated on the space garbage.

Were Fixit not so focused on the window, he might have noticed an inky black shadow pass over his frame as it followed its source en route to the engine deck. Instead, Fixit simply looked up, briefly startled, then turned back to his post.

* * *

 

 _Starship_ Alchemor, _Engine Room_

To say that Steeljaw was _upset_ would be an understatement.

 _Alchemor_ was marooned lightyears from Cybertron, in one of the most backwater systems in the galaxy—a notablebackwater system, but a backwater system nonetheless.

Inadequate, but it would have to do.

The Decepticon keyed open the door, pausing only when he heard Saberhorn's accented voice on the other side.

“ _The problem, you see, is the conductor on_ this _end.”_

A minicon's voice, tinny but insistent:

“ _I respectfully disagree. The power is flowing through the circuitry correctly. However, the grounding circuitry is unable to receive the extra charge required to safely reboot the system.”_

Bracing himself, Steeljaw stepped into the room.

“If I may interrupt...”

Saberhorn looked up. Exasperation was etched across the Cybertronian's refined features, but the violet Decepticon was still alert. Still wary.

“Steeljaw. I was unaware starship repairs were among your repertoire of skills.”

Forcing his mouth into a grin, Steeljaw moved forward, hands outstretched in a show of humility.

“I would never presume to know more than the ship's crew,” Steeljaw said, widening his eyes. “During the War, I did however serve on a ship that encountered a similar problem.”

“Oh?” Saberhorn quirked a brow. “And what ship was that?”

“The scouting vessel _Freedom._ Lost early in the war, to the same mechanical error plaguing this vessel.” Steeljaw sighed. “It was a beautiful ship.”

“All right.” Saberhorn grinned, teeth shining in the dim light. “How do you propose we fix our problem?”

Steeljaw sighed once more.

“The problem is not in the conductors, nor is it in the grounding circuitry. It lies within the ship's navigational systems.”

Saberhorn's grin morphed into a frown.

“Our diagnostics detected an anomaly within this system. The power core.”

“Gentlemen.” Steeljaw kept his voice even. “I believe we have a traitor on board.” 

* * *

 

_Cybertron, Iacon Pass_

Cybertron may have been revived, purified by the AllSpark, and the sacrifice of a Prime, Bumblebee thought bitterly, but its inhabitants remained corrupt.

The difference between Kaon and Iacon was stark. Even from orbit, a sight Bumblebee had witnessed only twice, Iacon's lights gleamed during the night-cycle while Kaon remained dark, sustained only by recharged emergency generators and wartime Energon rations. Energy was a vital concern and in Kaon, complaints had been pouring in about a bot siphoning Energon to power his own generators.

It had taken weeks, but Bumblebee had finally pulled the assignment. He had hesitated only for a moment before downloading the file and transforming, heading for the Pass.

Bumblebee swerved, easily avoiding a gaping hole in the road. He had passed the _repaired_ part of Cybertron some time before. Ahead of him lay the Cybertron that languished in postwar atrophy.

His HUD pinged. Sensors alert for more road hazards, Bumblebee opened the message.

It featured a heavier level of encryption than he was used to. _Nearly_ a level above his expertise, but his anxiety faded as he keyed in the proper sequences after only a moment's thought.

Ultra Magnus. Cybertron's Security Chief was one of the few remaining bots who would use this level of encryption for a simple update request.

Bumblebee made a wide turn off the road and let himself drift, beginning his transformation sequence at the last possible moment. Metal crunched against rock as he skidded off the road, finally coming to a stop. He looked around, scanning his immediate surroundings, then everything out of blaster range.

Unease ate away at his processor. Bumblebee doubted—no, he _knew_ he had not been followed. He activated his internal comlink as a precaution, sending a brief data burst relaying his position and current status to his commander.

Magnus's reply was concise and immediate:

_Return._

Not for the first time that day, Bumblebee hesitated.

He looked ahead.

Kaon was closer than it seemed. Ruins of once-tall structures loomed above him. Generators crackled. And somewhere, a criminal was running amok. Bumblebee felt his helm start to ache.

It seemed Kaon would have to wait one more day.

Fists clenched, Bumblebee transformed and sped back towards Iacon.

 


	2. Paradise

_Starship_ Alchemor, _Engine Room_

“I told you to _wait_ until we were past the Hydian Way!”

Steeljaw smelled fear. It permeated the entire ship, wafting from room to room, in and out of hallways.

A good amount of that fear came from Clampdown.

The Decepticon's specialty was _sabotage,_ but it seemed he had never been on a sabotaged ship before.

“I—I told you, Steeljaw. They were watching the navicomputers t-too closely. It was now or never!”

The larger Decepticon crossed his arms.

Clampdown whimpered.

“T...the plan will—can still succeed. I promise! We can do it! We will—”

“Wait.”

Clampdown blinked, shaking his eye stalks.

“I—I told you. The failsafe is programmed to detonate within two minute—”

A clawed hand struck the smaller Decepticon in the chest. Clampdown reeled back, startled.

“ _W-what?”_

Steeljaw's eyes narrowed, audials flicking back.

“I heard something.”

 

 _Starship_ Alchemor, ( _just outside the) Engine Room_ , five minutes ago

Gently, Fixit tapped his helm against the viewport. Something didn't add up, but the minicon lacked the processing power—or the serenity—to figure it out.

Frowning, the minicon pulled all the data he had on the ship.

 _Alchemor_ had been grounded for repairs just before the return trip to Cybertron began. The probability of power trouble, Fixit calculated, was a mere five percent. But sabotage, the minicon thought was a far greater possibility.

A Cybertronian scuttled past him. Absently, Fixit waved him by. If he remembered correctly, it was Clampdown—one of the few on the ship that _didn't_ scare Fixit.

Fixit felt paranoid.

Paranoid, and stupid.

Downloading the crew manifest was an act of necessity—after all, keeping track of who passed through the mess couldn't be done if Fixit didn't know their names.

 _Reading_ the crew manifest...

Since Fixit's foray into his fellow crewmate's lives, paranoia and anxiety were quickly consuming the minicon's processor.

“Saberhorn. Pirate turned bounty hunter turned Decepticon. Previously wanted for war crimes related to plundering and murdering civilians. Pardoned two standard years bingo—ring—”

Fixit's helm met the viewport again.

“Ago. Currently co-captain of the starship _Alchemor,_ sharing leadership with Glowstrike.”

Fixit trailed off. Once again, his optics were drawn to the debris. Fixit squinted, forcing a manual zoom-reset, not moving until the chunks of rock and scrap metal were in focus. Beyond the debris, a planet loomed. All blues and greens and browns, it was inhabited _and_ visited by Cybertronians, if Fixit remembered correctly.

Fixit shuddered as the ship settled itself at an angle. Gravitational boosters built into his systems would compensate for any changes, but the feeling was still... _eerie._

“Glowstrike. Freelance bounty hunter with known ties to Decepticon sabotage agent...”

Fixit gulped reflexively.

“Primus. Primus. Oh my.” Wheels spinning furiously, the minicon backed up.

The air was knocked out of Fixit's vents as he hit something that _squawked_. Fixit turned abruptly, confused, and was met with Clampdown's bug-eyed stare.

“I'm terribly sorry!”

“It's no problem.”

Fixit looked up at Clampdown's companion.

Immediately, a profile came up to match the face. _Steeljaw._ Decepticon commader. Known for—

“Steeljaw! What a surprise! I didn't hear you or Clampdown.” Fixit steeled himself. “Do you need anything?”

The larger Decepticon sighed, expression morose.

“I have just finished talking with Saberhorn. It seems we have only one choice.”

Fixit's Spark skipped a beat.

“Oh?”

Steeljaw quirked a brow, but did not otherwise change his expression. Fixit tore his eyes away from the larger Decepticon to watch Clampdown.

“ _Alchemor_ is unable to maintain lightspeed. It would take us five standard years to get to the Perseus Veil, and Saberhorn is unsure if his... _contacts_ are still available.”

Fixit was still watching Clampdown, who stared blankly.

“A distress signal!” Fixit yelped. “Modify our output to broadcast a distress signal on all frequencies. We're close enough to an inhabited planet to receive help soon!”

Steeljaw shook his head.

“I'm afraid that's not possible. Whoever sabotaged the ship code-locked the navicomputers. As you well know,” Steeljaw narrowed his optics. “Without direction, any distress signal sent in this system would have no chance of finding a relay.”

Letting out a careful breath, Fixit, wheeled himself back until his shoulders were pressed against the viewport.

“Steeljaw.”

“Yes?”

“I need to tell you something.” Fixit tore his optics away from Clampdown. “In private.”

“I'm afraid there's no time for that.” Steeljaw smiled, and Fixit's paranoia reached an all-time high. “The solution to our problem is about to be solved.”

Beneath their feet, _Alchemor_ lurched. Fixit caught onto the ledge as his systems adjusted, but this time, the ship did not settle.

“We've been caught in the planet's gravitational field!”

Steeljaw nodded solemnly.

“A crash will force all navicomputers to reset. It will also send an automated distress signal back to Cybertron.”

Fixit turned to face Clampdown, but the other Decepticon was gone.

“Steeljaw, it's Clampdown!”

The vessel shuddered. Fixit shut his optics.

“Clampdown sabotaged the _Alchemor_! You have to find him before he gets away!”

They were in freefall. Fixit heard the ship's outer hull crumpling, felt the vibrations beneath his feet, smelled the ozone in the planet's atmosphere.

A clawed hand seized his shoulder. Fixit cried out, struggling against the arm, as his grav boosters deactivated and his body hit the wall. His backstruts gave out and he crumpled to the floor, unmoving.

For a second, there was only the sound of the ship being torn apart.

Then, Fixit heard a slew of Cybertronian curses, then a howl, as Steeljaw 's back slammed into his head.

 

_Cybertron, Iacon, Security Chief's Office_

“The situation on Earth,” Ultra Magnus said. “Is complicated.”

“You got that right.” Bumblebee said, examining his datapad. “International treaties, national security, threats to national security...where do we come in?”

“Secure databases around the world have been compromised,” Strongarm said. “Human security experts are quick to blame their political enemies, who might've gotten their servos on some Cybertronian tech.”

She paused, for a moment uncertain.

“Sir.”

Bumblebee shook his head.

“Just Bumblebee.”

Clearly irritated at the yellow Autobot's decision to subvert the chain of command, Magnus continued speaking.

“Our agents within the Earthen United States Government—”

“Raf and Fowler.”

Magnus nodded. “They believe it is a resurgence of M.E.C.H.. No matter the perpetrator, Cybertronian technology has been leaked to the humans.”

Bumblebee frowned, hand going instinctively to his side, half-fearing his T-cog was about to rupture.

“Hence the ban on nonessential bridging to Earth.”

“Precisely.”

Strongarm passed Bumblebee another datapad.

“ _This,_ however, is the very definition of 'essential'.”

Bumblebee leaned back in his seat, scanning the documents with a practiced eye.

When he looked up, Magnus was watching him.

“When did this happen?”

“We received the signal just before I called you.” Magnus leaned forward, characteristic frown deepening. “You know who is on board that ship.”

Bumblebee nodded.

Ultra Magnus sighed, hand outstretched. Bumblebee handed over the datapad.

“Retrieving _Alchemor's_ crew and passengers is your first priority.” Magnus said. “I would advise you to avoid embroiling yourself in the Earth-Cybertron negotiations.”

Strongarm piped up:

“I've been monitoring their newsfeeds. The crash is being spun as an asteroid, or they are unaware of the ship's true nature. Either way, the human politicians won't like their planet being visited by fifty Cybertronians who haven't seen home in a thousand years.”

Bumblebee couldn't help but agree.

“This needs to be done carefully. I'll do my best to steer clear of human cities and population centers.”

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Magnus's face.

“Good. Additionally, I'm sending Lieutenant Strongarm to accompany you. She'll be my eyes and ears during this mission, and her expertise in recovering downed ships will serve you well.”

Bumblebee glanced at Strongarm. The younger Autobot had not been expecting the promotion (if it could be called that). Her eyes were wide, her lips tight. Embarrassed? He couldn't place the emotion.

“Understood sir,” she said. “We won't let you down.”

An awkward silence descended among the three. Normally used to quiet, Bumblebee wasn't used to Strongarm's presence, and wasn't used to prolonged, non-wartime conversations with Magnus.

“So.” he said. “Is there anything else we need to know?”

“Yes.” Magnus handed Strongarm a datapad. “Passenger manifest. It details their names, former...occupations, appearance, and altmode. That datapad also contains the approximate coordinates of the crash zone. The main bridge is charging as you speak.”

Taking that as a cue, Bumblebee and Strongarm stood, awkwardly pushing their chairs back into place.

“The bridge is waiting for you.” Ultra Magnus stood, then saluted. “Good luck.”

 


End file.
